


Blake's 7 Ficlet Collection 2018

by DoreyG



Series: 2018 Ficlet Collections [7]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Casual Sex, Cold Weather, Creepy Dolls, Cunnilingus, Dark, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Hurt/Comfort, Lazy Sex, M/M, Morning After, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04, Secret Relationship, Seduction, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:10:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: A collection of any Blake's 7 ficlets I write in 2018 that are under 1000 words.





	1. Seduction [Dayna/Servalan]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Servalan takes an opportunity.

"You're very beautiful," she says, pressing gentle fingertips against Dayna's jaw.

The woman turns her face violently away, of course, but trembles just slightly underneath her touch. An in, as much as she's trying not to show it, "shut up."

"But you are," she insists, making her tone deliberately kind. Like that of a lover, like that of a woman who would never _dream_ of crushing everything that Dayna holds so very dear, "so beautiful. Those cheekbones, those eyes... Any person would be _lucky_ to have you."

A long pause. Dayna tries to resist, she tries so _hard_ , but slowly turns back to her nonetheless. Her eyes are defiant, but there's a flash of uncomfortable longing in them, "I said shut _up_. Why are you saying these things?"

Another in. She smiles triumphantly, and makes sure to twist it just enough that it looks sweet, "because I want to."


	2. Creepy Dolls [Vila/Avon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vila has problems with their latest plan.

"It's staring at me."

"It's not staring at you, Vila," Avon said, his tone deliberately patient. Heh, like he wouldn't run off to sneer at something more interesting at the first possible opportunity, "it's just a trick of the light."

"You think I don't know the difference between a mere trick of the light and something eyeballing me?" He asked incredulously, swung around to stare at Avon more fully, "I don't know why we had to bring it on the ship in the first place."

Avon only smirked at him. He _hated_ that smirk, every single time it turned up he knew that another humiliation waited just around the corner, "weren't you listening to my explanation, Vila? This cargo will help score a vital blow against the federation-"

"We're going to take down the federation with creepy dolls now?" He asked, well able to withstand that smirk. That was the thing about humiliation, you had enough of it heaped on you and you started to regard it as an old friend, "I know we've gone to some absurd lengths in the past, Avon, but this takes the cake. You seriously expect me to believe that _this_ is your latest cunning plan?"

Avon stared at him flatly for a long moment, the smirk still lingering around his lips, "what other reasons could there be?"

He met the stare levelly, not a little fed up, "you think I've had too good a month, and want to torture me until I remember my place."

"Vila. Would I do something like that?" Avon rolled his eyes. He withstood that too, silently bemoaning the long years of practice that made such a thing possible, "look, if you really find a toy suited to a child so profoundly disturbing-"

"You'll throw it off the ship?"

"-Then you're even more pathetic than I thought you were," Avon finished coldly, still with that damned smirk lingering around his lips, "but no worries. If you find yourself too consumed by terror to complete your duties, I might be able to bring myself to take your mind off it."

He stared for a second, incredulous again. Hesitated for a long moment more, and then mentally shrugged his shoulders and moved slowly closer to where Avon was still watching him with those amused eyes, "as long as it isn't in front of the dolls, then _fine_."

"Wouldn't want them to keep staring at you," Avon said nastily, and was still smirking even when he kissed him.


	3. Injured [Vila/Avon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vila notices something that Avon's trying to hide.

"Tarrant, get a start on unloading that cargo. Dayna, check our defences are still secure after that run. Soolin-" there's a sharp stab of agony in his side, and he has to pause to draw in a pained breath before he can continue, "make sure that, ah, Orac is functioning. If you need me, I'll be in my quarters."

He feels like he must be obvious, that they'll all sense his weakness and gather like sharks, but all they do is look a little annoyed and then snap to business. Nobody spares him a glance as he leaves the room, nobody watches his slow steps for the best time to strike.

...Well, almost nobody. Vila follows him out into the corridor, looking unaccountably amused, "forget somebody?"

Just his luck. He smiles grimly, keeps walking as best he can given the intensity of the pain, "aren't you always telling me that you need a break, Vila? I thought you would relish this opportunity."

"It's hard to relish opportunities when you're around, Avon, they tend to grow unexpected teeth," Vila says, almost casually. He seems to be waiting for something, watching him much like he would watch some damned safe, "did it just graze the skin, or did it actually penetrate?"

The brief sense of shock that he feels is enough to get him to lower his defences, send a roil of sickly pain pulsing through him. He keeps his feet, but only barely, "I... Don't know what you mean. Go away now."

"It seemed to be moving fairly fast," Vila says, actually sounding _cheerful_ now, "but I was at a bit of a distance so couldn't really tell. My eyesight, you know. I really _do_ think that it's starting to act up."

" _Vila_ -"

"It penetrated, then. I thought so, from the way you were standing," Vila concludes, and then _sighs_ \- as he gives him a heartfelt glare - and steps forward, "honestly, the things you say in this job."

He grits his teeth, but remains silent this time. The pain is enough that he can't help but sway on his feet. He hates to admit it, but the quiet support of Vila's body is a _boon_.

"You honestly thought I wouldn't notice, after I've known you this long? I may be a drunk, Avon, but I'm not _blind_." Vila firmly shoves a shoulder underneath his arm, taking at least half of his weight. Sends him a small smile, and slowly starts walking again, "come on, let's get you patched up. I won't even tell Tarrant about this, if you're good."

He glares for another moment, but then relents just a little and allows himself to be carried. Just along the corridor. Just until he can regain his composure, and remind Vila of his place.

It feels strangely nice, to be taken care of in such a way, but he _happily_ buries that thought at the bottom of his mind.


	4. Unathletic Sex [Vila/Avon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avon attempts to assert his masculinity, Vila is fine with the status quo.

"I could fuck you up against the wall, you know," he says.

"Of course you could, Avon," Vila says, and rolls his eyes. It crosses his mind to be annoyed by that, but it seems far too much effort at the moment, "after all, you're only a forty year old man with roughly four years of extreme stress and semi-severe injuries behind you. Lifting me up against the nearest wall shouldn't be any problem at _all_. Definitely won't put your back out or anything."

He glares down, lifts up on one elbow so Vila can see his displeasure just a bit more clearly, "I'm just informing you that if you ever want something a touch more exciting-"

"You'll provide?" Vila only rolls his eyes again underneath him, and then lets out a pleased sigh as he rather pointedly thrusts down, "believe me, Avon, I know. You're the most macho man alive, after all. I _know_ you could fuck me six ways to Sunday, if just given the chance and sufficient recovery time afterwards. But-"

"But?" He asks, reluctantly intrigued as Vila gives another pleased sigh.

"Personally I think that you bring enough 'excitement' to my life outside of the bedroom, don't you?" Vila asks, and grabs his arse to grind them more firmly together, "believe me, I'm _fine_ with something boring."


	5. Trust Issues [Vila/Avon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avon has issues, Vila is exasperated.

"Ah, you're up," Vila says, when he finally emerges from the barely patched up shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, "how did you sleep?"

He stares suspiciously for a long moment before he speaks, entirely unused to somebody - _especially_ Vila - being so relaxed around him, "well enough. Did you drug me?"

"What?" Vila stares at him, looking appalled. His towel drops a little, and he _refuses_ to allow himself to look at the extra skin exposed, "what kind of question is that to ask a guy you just seduced? No wonder people you've kissed keep dying, if _that's_ what passes for sweet nothings from you."

"In the past few months I've gotten three hours a night, at _best_ ," he says coldly, also determinedly ignoring the brief look of concern that passes across Vila's face, "then I fall asleep next to you, and I suddenly get a full night without even a single nightmare. It makes no sense, it's _impossible_. So you need to tell me what you gave me right now, Vila, or else-"

"Well, I guess I _did_ know you were insane when you kissed me," Vila interrupts him, managing to sound philosophical even with his expression now hovering somewhere between exasperation and concern, "do you want me to get you breakfast, or are you afraid that I'm going to slip some magic potion in there too?"

"Vila-" He starts, trying to sound menacing and instead - to his horror - ending up faintly bemused.

"Just my luck, to always be attracted to the psychopaths," Vila muses, mainly to himself, and casually drops his towel as he turns away to find some clothes, "I'll just get us both some coffee when I'm dressed, shall I? Black, like your soul."

This, he thinks as he bemusedly slumps back against the pillows and barely resists looking at the curve of Vila's arse, is somehow going to be even more complicated than he imagined.


	6. Cunnilingus [Dayna/Soolin]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A casual hook-up turns out surprisingly well.

Soolin slides between her legs, and she's unsurprised to find herself already wet at the very sight. How can she not be, after all? That blonde hair, those cocky eyes, that huge grin... It's a miracle she hasn't swooned from the sheer intensity of it.

She gasps, helplessly, and Soolin turns that grin up towards her. Allows their eyes to lock for only a moment more, before balancing on her elbows and leaning in properly.

The first swipe of her tongue is enough to set all of her nerve endings on fire. She gasps again, and then moans as she helplessly arches her back. Soolin seems pleased at the reaction, traces her tongue pointedly over her clit until she finds the nub at the core of her. When she runs her lips over it in a slow and deliberate motion, she almost falls off the bed.

She never expected _this_ , a casual hook-up born out of being the only two women in this whole slowly dying rebellion, to be so _good_. But, as Soolin moves a hand between her legs and slides a deliberate finger into her, she hardly has any complaints.


	7. Stormy Weather [Vila/Avon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vila has certain doubts about the weather.

"There's no way I'm going out in _that_!"

"Vila," Avon turned to him, wearing his weariest expression. It was kind of amazing, really, how he could manage so much nuance with only the slightest twitch of his eyebrow, "it's only a spot of snow. Believe me, it is unfortunately _exceedingly_ unlikely to kill you."

He ignored that 'unfortunately' with ease of long practice. It was like most of Avon's barbs, basically meaningless in the end, "you don't know that."

"Believe me, I _certainly_ do."

"I have a weak chest," he protested, sending Avon his most pleading glance. The special one, that always got the side of the man's mouth tilting up like he was trying his very hardest not to smile, "you know I do. I'll catch pneumonia, and then probably get hypothermia on top of that. And if you don't think that either of those things can kill a person like me then, well, you'd be mistaken."

"Vila..." Avon sighed, glanced around quickly as if to check that nobody else was listening in, "what will it take to get you to stop complaining, and actually come outside with me?"

He stared suspiciously for a long moment, unused to such a quick capitulation, and then decided that he might as well hedge his bets, "one night, just one, without Tarrant disturbing me in any way."

"Done."

"And," he continued, flushed with unexpected success, "a kiss, right here and right now. You know, for luck."

Avon gave him a strange look, but shrugged. Stepped in close, leaned in even closer and studied his face with an intensity that had his skin prickling in anticipation...

And then grasped his arms, and spun them out into the snow before he could do more than give an astonished blink. He shot an outraged glance at the door, but already it was too late. Avon was blocking the way, with a smug expression that he couldn't help but admire even as he wanted to sink his fist into it.

"Hey!"

"I only gave you one request, Vila," Avon only purred, sent him an amused glance before turning on his heel and moving off, "don't worry, I promise that I'll kiss you for luck when _I_ need it."


	8. Secrets [Vila/Avon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vila ponders his and Avon's "relationship".

Avon only comes to him under cover of darkness. 

No affection in the light for him, oh no. No daytime kisses, or lazy mornings in bed, or even the briefest smile where anybody else could see.

No. What he does instead is far more complex. He sneaks in, usually at some point past midnight, and climbs into his bed without asking. He devours his mouth, pins him hard against the mattress and fucks him at a savage pace until they both fall apart. He tends to slip out as soon as he can afterwards, too, without even a word. The only thing he gets is a harsh touch to his lips, as if warning him not to blab.

And then the next day it's the same as ever: The sneers, the comments, the brusquely dismissive manner like he's just some lapdog that they keep around for _sport_. Do this, Vila. Go there, Vila. Show your belly and beg for our attention, Vila, because it's not like you're good for much else.

It's crossed his mind a few times that he should feel angry about this situation, or at the very least upset. He's never even _seen_ Avon's face when he orgasms, has only felt the sticky aftermath. And even a lapdog gets tired of being kicked in public and patted in private sometimes.

But it's not that bad. After all, at least he's actually _doing_ something with his life as opposed to just waiting on some penal colony to get viciously murdered. And he's getting regularly fucked by somebody vaguely attractive too, without a single promise or attempt to woo. It's more than he ever dreamed, as a scabby youngster who was always at least half starved.

Besides, when Avon comes to him he _always_ forgets to empty out his pockets beforehand. And a regular source of income is _nothing_ to sniff at, after all.


End file.
